Chapter 2 - THE CALL FROM THE DEAD
Nobody moved.
Nobody even breathed.
The phone kept ringing in Mark’s hand.
Dad.
The name on the screen burned into all three of their minds.
Laura stared at it, waiting for Mark to explain.
Waiting for him to laugh and say it was some kind of mistake.
But he didn’t.
He just stood there, frozen.
“Answer it,” Laura whispered.
Mark looked at her.
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Why not?”
“Because I know who it is.”
The answer sent a chill through the room.
Evelyn stepped closer.
“What does that mean?”
Mark finally ended the call.
The silence afterward felt heavier than the ringing.
“Mark,” Laura said slowly, “you have exactly ten seconds to explain what’s happening.”
He ran his hand through his hair.
“I can’t.”
A painful laugh escaped Laura.
“You can’t?”
She grabbed the envelope from his hand.
“You sell Dad’s house, hide letters, and now Dad is calling you from beyond the grave, but you can’t explain?”
Mark reached for it.
“Laura, don’t open that.”
She pulled it away.
“Why?”
His face changed.
Because she saw fear.
Real fear.
“Because Dad didn’t want you to know what was inside.”
Laura stared at him.
“Dad is dead.”
“I know.”
“Then how could he want anything?”
Mark had no answer.
That was the worst part.
Evelyn slowly sat down on the old leather chair their father loved.
“I don’t understand.”
Her voice cracked.
“Dad spent his entire life teaching us honesty. Family. Trust.”
She looked at Mark.
“And now we’re standing here wondering if our own father was hiding something from us.”
Mark walked toward the window.
Outside, the afternoon sun was disappearing.
“I found out three weeks before Dad died.”
Laura froze.
“Found out what?”
Mark swallowed.
“That the Bennett family fortune wasn’t built the way we thought.”
Nobody spoke.
“Our grandfather didn’t create everything from nothing,” Mark continued.
“There was another person involved.”
“Who?” Evelyn asked.
Mark looked at them.
“A man named Daniel Cross.”
The name meant nothing to Laura.
But Mark’s expression told her it should.
“Who is Daniel Cross?”
Mark lowered his voice.
“The man Dad destroyed.”
The room went cold.
“What are you talking about?”
Mark looked at the letter.
“Dad spent thirty years making sure nobody ever knew the truth.”
Laura shook her head.
“No. Dad wasn’t like that.”
Mark looked at her.
“You only knew the father he wanted you to see.”
Those words hit harder than she expected.
Because a tiny part of her wondered if he was right.
Suddenly, a loud crash came from upstairs.
All three turned.
“What was that?” Evelyn asked.
Mark’s face changed instantly.
“Someone’s here.”
Laura frowned.
“What?”
Before anyone could respond, the lights went out.
The entire house fell into darkness.
Then they heard footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Coming from upstairs.
Someone was walking through their father’s bedroom.
Mark whispered:
“Get behind me.”
Laura almost laughed.
“You think I’m hiding behind you after everything?”
Another sound.
A drawer opening.
Someone searching.
Mark moved toward the stairs.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
Laura followed.
“Not anymore.”
They reached the top floor.
Their father’s bedroom door was open.
Inside, everything had been thrown apart.
The mattress was cut open.
The drawers were empty.
Someone wasn’t looking for money.
They were looking for something specific.
Then Evelyn screamed.
On the wall above the bed, written in black ink, were six words:
“YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT IT ALONE.”
Mark stared at the message.
May you like
Because he knew exactly who wrote it.
And that terrified him.
